Amenity
by you-make-me-wander
Summary: Stiles and Lydia find comfort in each other after too many loved ones are lost over the years between friends and family, particularly after Lydia loses her mother and Stiles his father.


**A/N: So this small drabble is inspired by the prompt "Lydia comforting a sad Stiles" but it came out slightly different. It's bittersweet and it broke my heart a little, but I couldn't let it rest and I had to write it down. I still like how it turned out. The summary already has all you need to be warned about so delve in it if you're up for a little hurt. Stydia one-shot.**

**Amenity**

Stiles was eight when he lost his mother. He's twenty-three when his dad dies.

He doesn't understand. He doesn't know how someone so young can have the misfortune of losing his mother to a nefarious disease as a child and his father to an unfortunate accident when all of his life is ahead of him, barely starting, and he already lost so much between friends and family. He can't also cope with the fact that, for a pack that runs into another supernatural creature every other week, another paranormal menace, something as ordinary as a car crash would take the life of one of their own. But it did. And it took his dad's.

It came at a time when Stiles was finally figuring things out again. His dad had a heart attack during Stiles' senior year and the boy stayed in Beacon Hills for him. He found a job at a small coffee shop, enrolled in some classes at community college, helped his dad on the side with some of his cases. He met with Scott often, who had also stayed in California along with Kira, even if now they didn't live as close to each other as before. And things were still working out for him and Lydia; they were still close even if she was miles and miles away from him after she had left.

Stiles couldn't blame her for leaving because Lydia had lost her mother a week before turning eighteen, killed along with a few members of the pack by an Alpha that almost took Lydia's life too hadn't Stiles and Scott been there. And Stiles was her rock. He stood beside Lydia for weeks. The first night after her mother's death he didn't sleep just to make sure that Lydia was breathing properly. And the morning after that, when it dawned on her that she'd never see her mother again, Lydia had turned hollow, empty, quiet. Until she wasn't. Until rage and grief and pain filled her heart so effusively that Lydia had screamed her lungs out until she lost her voice. And then she'd cried. Lydia cried for so long that Stiles started to worry about her health for how unnatural it was that someone could cry so much.

But he never faltered. Stiles was with her through every second of it: when she had to identify her mother's remains because of how disfigured the woman had been left, a grip so tight on Stiles' hand that he was sure Lydia was gonna crush it; through the wake, when Scott and the Sheriff and Melissa, even hurting and in pain as they were for all the members that the pack had lost, had been the ones taking charge of things at the Martin's residence - a house that Lydia would sell within a month - to greet loved ones and friends while Lydia slept upstairs in her room in Stiles' arms because Lydia had been the one who lost the most; at the funeral, when all Lydia could do was cry against his chest as Stiles held her close because not only had she just lost her mom, but also because her dad didn't want anything to do with her for he had another family to take care of.

The following days had been challenging, but Stiles still didn't leave her side. He helped her with the most basic tasks like eating and showering, getting up and dressed in the morning, actually engaging her in some activity that would distract her from the fact that she was now alone, that she had no family but her friends, all while staying in her house with her, day and night. When her eighteenth birthday came, Lydia asked Stiles to stay with her, just the two of them, as she tried to bring herself to make trivial conversation, to try and normalize her life a little bit. It took her two hours of them sitting on her front porch side by side in silence to ask him something as simple as "How are you today?"

Stiles gave her a small smile. He knew she'd eventually find the strength to take a step forward, to try and deal on her own way with things that would for sure haunt her for the rest of her life. He started rambling as an answer to her question, trailing off with some crazy story that surprisingly made Lydia laugh. Her little giggle was so out-of-nowhere that Lydia had stopped abruptly, worried of having done something she shouldn't have, but Stiles kissed her temple and put an arm around her waist, whispering in her ear reassuring, comforting words, telling her that it was okay. And she believed.

After another week and at his dad's insistence, Stiles went back to sleeping on his bed again instead of the banshee's, even after arguing with the man that Lydia wasn't ready to be on her own just yet. It was mostly the anxiety of being separated from Stiles that led her to his house one night, one when the Sheriff was working late, one when she kissed Stiles as soon as she laid eyes on him, a move so spontaneous that Stiles lost his breath for a moment and all his train of thought along with it. And even if she'd been willing to take things further that night, Stiles kept Lydia on her side of his bed in an attempt to do the right thing; it still wasn't their time. Lydia had understood.

And the next morning she didn't regret kissing him nor that he'd stopped her, and for the first time since she'd lost her mother, Lydia had genuinely smiled when she woke up next to him as she told him how Stiles was a gift, how much she wanted to be his but thought she wasn't ready for him just yet. When Stiles found control of himself again – because he can swear time stopped right then and there –, he had kissed her passionately, unhurriedly, and then whispered to her lips "I'll wait." The smile she gave him had been enough.

But not for long. Weeks went by and the end of the school year came fast and soon Lydia and Stiles found themselves often discussing career prospects and majors they'd like to pursue, places they'd like to live in. And they had a plan; they'd leave together – because who is Stiles kidding? He'd go to the other side of the world for this girl – and settle somewhere not too far but far away enough from the dangers of Beacon Hills, far away enough that Lydia wouldn't have that void feeling in her heart anymore, one that she'd be carrying for far too long, one that he saw in her eyes every day. Beacon Hills had nothing to offer Lydia but Stiles, and he was coming with her.

That's when the Sheriff had his heart attack. A stressful hostage situation took its toll on the man and it had surely scared the hell out of Stiles. And Lydia saw that; she saw how torn, how confused Stiles became with each passing day because he didn't know what to do, how he wanted to leave town for Lydia and stay for his dad. So Lydia broke his heart and her own when she told him to stay, that she wouldn't hold it against him. That she knew he'd follow her wherever and that that was why she'd have to leave him be. That she couldn't stay and he couldn't leave but maybe the future would bring them together again someday.

They gave in to their feelings and made love for the first time that night. There were so many murmured _I love you_'s in between moans and kisses and desperate words they knew the other needed to hear that by the time the morning came, they found themselves crying silently in each other's arms for what wouldn't be. Stiles made the decision to drive her away himself and sure enough, not long after, Stiles was fresh out of high school and roaming around the all too familiar streets of Beacon Hills by himself, looking for a job.

They kept in touch, the need for the other overcoming everything else, so they talked daily even if they were a thousand miles away from each other. Sometimes Lydia would feel homesick and she'd call Scott or Kira, even Melissa or the Sheriff, and sometimes they'd all get together on the weekends to Skype the redhead, almost bringing her to tears. As things became easier and time passed, Stiles and Lydia fell into their own routine, calling each other at the end of each day and making sure the other was okay, sharing banal stories from their days, even gossiping about their co-workers or a neighbor, a new friend or one of the remaining members of the pack. Every now and then, they talked about them, about how he could be living with her or how she could be living with him but nothing had changed. Lydia couldn't find it in her heart to move back to a city that had taken so much from her and Stiles still had his old man to look after, whose health hadn't improved that much in the year that passed and that ended up forcing him to eventually leave his job as Sheriff.

And as the years went by, Lydia and Stiles found themselves talking not as often but never less than once a week even when their lives started moving forward. Lydia secured a job leading an investigative team while Stiles still worked at the same coffee shop, which he had grown to love. When Stiles stalled Lydia on the phone for over half an hour without saying much one day, she realized that his reluctance concerned a girl he'd met, one he promised Lydia wouldn't change anything, that in the long run Lydia was his destiny the same way she'd always been. And Lydia accepted it. The girl seemed nice and cared about Stiles, and things didn't seem like they would change for Stiles and Lydia anytime soon so she complied. A similar conversation came up months later when Lydia was the one finding someone to try and be happy with. Neither relationship lasted long just like they knew they wouldn't but they still owed it to themselves to try.

But things were better. Their bond hadn't been broken even when they were with others and neither Stiles nor Lydia had ever found someone they cared about as much or had such a connection with. And another boyfriend and another girlfriend came their way but somehow they were still the same Stiles and the same Lydia, the ones who would always find their way back to one another. They focused on their jobs and on each other, on their friends and loved ones, and eventually the solitude Lydia had once felt almost dissipated, allowing her to start enjoying her life properly again and as long as she was okay, Stiles was too.

And then it happened, his father's accident, and it was like they were back where they were almost five years ago when her mom died. Stiles became numb after receiving the tragic news, some of the only words he spoke being "Don't tell Lydia. You can't tell Lydia, Scott" because he knew she'd come back for him in a heartbeat and he didn't want that. He didn't know if he could face her knowing that it was his fault that she'd be back in that godforsaken town.

Scott, of course, didn't listen and as soon as he left Stiles with a grieving Melissa, who was dating the Sheriff and had grown closer to Stiles over the years, Scott found his pregnant girlfriend outside the hospital and he didn't even need to tell her they'd have to call the banshee; Kira was already on it. And as expected, Lydia left everything behind as soon as she could to find them. By the time she arrived to Beacon Hills, people were already gathering at the Stilinski's for the wake, the whole pack being there to show their support - the ones who were alive to the date anyway.

"Stiles?" She entered the house and was quick to let her bags fall to the floor unceremoniously, moving swiftly around the house to find him as she called out his name repeatedly. "Stiles?"

His head snapped back when he caught her voice. There was no way he could hear her so clearly, not like he hadn't in the almost five years that came between them and he saw her last. She couldn't be there, she couldn't, unless… "Lydia?"

She found him in the kitchen and as soon as she saw him, Lydia ran towards him determined to meet his touch, his warmth. Her body met his so harshly that Stiles almost lost his balance. They embraced for what seemed like hours and seconds at the same time, their reunion too overdue for that tight hug to be enough. When they put some distance between them to look at the other properly, it was too much and nothing at all simultaneously. It was like they were seeing the other for the first time.

Too in deep with the presence of the other to even care that they were surrounded, Stiles and Lydia kissed intensely, like if they'd do it with any less sentiment the other might disappear. When they parted breathless, Stiles could only find the strength to whisper "You didn't have to come."

In return, Lydia gave him a small, shy smile because finally, after so long, she had found in her heart the same will to follow him everywhere, whatever the circumstances. "Yes, I had."

And so, like Stiles had been there for Lydia, Lydia was there for Stiles. Through the wake and the funeral and the days that followed. And when Stiles told Lydia a few weeks later that she could go, that he was better, she told him she'd never leave him again. When they argued because he couldn't live with Lydia staying in Beacon Hills for him, she admitted that she should have never left.

It takes them some time to work past that but life follows its course and they get together. Lydia leaves her job and stays with Stiles in Beacon Hills for over a month until one morning, when Lydia is keeping him company at the coffee shop, a family comes in, parents with their two kids and expecting a third. They ask Stiles and one of his co-workers if they know who they can talk to about renting a place there; tell them how life has been hard for them, that they're looking for a fresh start. After a heartfelt conversation with Lydia, Stiles tells the man and the woman that he might know the right place.

Another month later, Stiles effectively moves out of his house, the house he grew up in and that will now be the house of other children, where new memories – hopefully good ones - will be the start of something new for that family. Leaving with Lydia, they follow up with their plan, the one that had stayed dormant for years but never forgotten, and move away to start their new life together in a small town much like their own, one that's supernatural free as far as they're aware.

Scott and Kira's child, a little boy, is almost a year old when they decide to move away too, taking the only ones left, Melissa and Liam, with them so that they're all close together, the pain of being so few in the end hurting them too much to have it any other way. And by the time they're all living in the same city again, Stiles proposes and marries Lydia soon after.

They still cry the loss of their loved ones, remember the ones that fell at the hands of abnormal forces, but with time it doesn't hurt as much, and every now and then they reminisce the good old times when things were so much simpler. And it sure helps them move on that, months later, they find themselves surrounded by new friends and a growing family, Kira expecting a second child as Lydia expects her first, Liam considering moving in with a girl he fell in love with, Melissa finding joy in her work again, and slowly things fall into place; not the way they would have wanted them to but just the way that they do, even if most of their old life is gone.

Their laughs become more effortless along with their smiles, more genuine with each passing day and years later, when their kids ask them about stories from when they were younger, they all gather around a small bonfire on Melissa's backyard, roasting marshmallows as they sincerely have fun telling the kids how Scott and Stiles met, and about Stiles' absurdly incessant – but that paid off in the long run - crush on Lydia, how Scott and Stiles would drive their parents nuts when they were little. And they also tell them about Scott's first love and this whole clique they used to hang out with when they were teenagers, and how their hometown used to have all sorts of weird occurrences they'll maybe hear about one day.

And at the end of that night when the kids are finally asleep, the grown-ups sit peacefully on the same backyard and exchange glances between smiles and little laughs, and think that life couldn't be better, that they found amenity in their sadness. That they have lost many but they're still standing. And that they have each other.

**Author's note: Please review and let me know how you feel about it. I'm you-make-me-wander on tumblr :)**


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